top of page

Please subscribe! You won't miss a post, and I won't have to chase you down!

Thanks so much! - Chica Jo and Paul

Search
Writer's pictureChica Jo

Turning Ugliness Into Beauty

Updated: Jun 15, 2021


Keep Reading To Find Out What This Is

It’s been an interesting few weeks since my underwater dance with a humpback whale (plus escape from big momma tiger shark) and Paul’s rescue of a tangled humpback whale. For a while, regular old life seemed so darn easy and new healthy habits automatic. Not much of day-to-day life really rattled me after such intense, and life-threatening experiences. But I’ve been feeling that anxious, self-focused, mini-me creeping back in. How can I be griping at the whale-saving man for getting macha chili-oil all over the galley counter and not cleaning it up (again)? Why did I just burst-curse indignantly to myself at the guy who took up two parking spaces at noon on a triple-digit day and the young grocery bagger who crushed my cilantro? Why am I letting myself feel so sleeplessly hurt when my grown son doesn’t read these blog posts that, if I’m writing for any single person, would be him? (Ha! If you’re reading this, kiddo, there’s some mom martyrdom for you!) Why did I just parenthetically guilt my son even though I rationally know better (He’s probably not going to read this . . . but still)? I’m supposed to be all ‘woke’ now and above such frivolous worries, right? Shouldn’t I now just automatically BE in a state of grace all the time? Well. Having the dancing whale memory to remind me to check in with my relationship with the present moment does help. But not directly. What it does mostly is just make me aware of how ever-changing my state of mind is and how often I am impatient, self-righteous, judgmental, and on the edge of falling back into old, asleep habits. Dammit. The only way out, for me, is to DO something counter to my own ugliness and ugliness at large. Something that requires me to practice the very things I struggle to be: patient, self-less, compassionate, deeply truthful, and graceful. Something . . . beautiful.


This Time With Color . . . keep reading . . .

Remember the awful 369 feet of nylon rope and gillnet that ensnared Paul’s humpback like a mummy? That net was held suspended in the water column by 66 donut shaped foam floats. Before we disposed of the net and line (Thank you Villa Del Palmar at the Islands for taking it off our hands . . . but, yes, I do still judge your desert golf course . . . see, there I go even now!) we painstakingly searched for and cut free all those life-taking foam rounds. I brushed off most of the barnacles that had rubbed off the whale and onto the floats and I faced the horrible pile of them. How could I make beauty out of such ugliness? I would often close my eyes and try to recall every inch and movement of my dancing humpback. (I still do as I’m afraid it will fade like the image of my mom laughing has.) I could see the bumpy, almost black, other-worldly blue of the whale’s skin. I could recall the surprising amount of bright white, almost lacy filigree that edged his long, elegant flippers. I could remember the surprising number of barnacles and other life attached to the giant gyrating mammal . . . so many that when he was close enough to touch it was like his skin was a night sky dotted with jeweled constellations. I could recall the striping of his throat pleats, ready to expand with a living-room’s worth of water and krill. I could remember the perfect black sphere of his eye looking at what felt like all my secrets.


So, I got out my paints and brushes and started painting those ugly floats to reflect a humpback’s surface beauty and deeper grace. It took me a few weeks of detailed afternoon work on a rocking boat. I had to salt and rub the water out of each float before applying paint. Then I had to layer and layer the paint to even begin to do whales any justice. Each brush stroke was done with love and patience and with a smile, thinking how someone else would enjoy this found-object sculpture. I completed it by stringing up all 66 floats on part of the awful, ensnaring rope that bound Paul’s whale’s mouth. I worked hard and fought nausea and was gratefully present for most every moment of it. Now, it’s time for me to gift the hanging sculpture to someone whom I hope will enjoy it for a time before re-gifting it to someone else. Fellow sailor, art appreciator and San Carlos resident, Becky Mulkey Burr and her talented architect hubby, Bob are now in possession of the sculpture! (See photo at bottom . . . and Thanks Becki!)

So, that’s all know to do with my darn ugly self. That and going outside to discover who is crawling, swimming, or flying around. Not likely to be a dancing whale or one in need of rescue but perhaps a spider, some weird seaweed, or an eel. "Ick" you say? I say, "Wake up"! All forms of life are sacred and full of wonder . . . if we ourselves are seeing correctly.

It's here in San Carlos waiting for you . . . Triplefin is the third boat from the far left, by the way.



400 views8 comments

8 Comments


Cheri Jones
Cheri Jones
Jun 13, 2021

This is the first post that I have read but it won't be the last. My husband and I lived on our boat for 3 years and it brought back so many memories. I am here in San Carlos and would love to trade you a piece of stained glass for one of your beautiful creations if you are interested. I walk the beach every day picking up trash and finding treasures along the way. Thank you for turning something so ugly into something so beautiful.

Like
Chica Jo
Chica Jo
Jun 13, 2021
Replying to

Hi Cheri, Thanks for reading ... I'm so glad you found me! We should definitely meet...so pleased to know you are out there gathering trash to repurpose like me! I promised the whale float piece to someone else I heard from sooner...sorry about that. Stained glass work...I once merely dabbled in it so I know what patience and ability to visualize that takes! Would you want to take a sunset walk together on playa San Francisco or Algodones this week? Monday is good for me...and then anyway the following week except Tuesday. Just let me know. My email is triplefinjo@gmail.com In the meantime if you're interested, I suggest going back a few posts to at least Sleeping with Sharks...that's where things started to get…

Like

Mary Renlund-Wallace
Mary Renlund-Wallace
Jun 12, 2021

These, painted up, are beyond beautiful. Hanging in these cascading chains of colors have such an impact as a grouping and the back story really adds meaning to this collection. I see the ocean and the cosmos being as one. ...

Like
Chica Jo
Chica Jo
Jun 13, 2021
Replying to

Claro!

Like

Get a quick notification when we post once or twice a month!

Thanks! You'll hear from us soon. -Jo and Paul

bottom of page